Fables and Folktales
by Whatever Makes You Break
Summary: Jack always wondered who authored the books telling tales of his legendary adventures. He should have never been surprised.


_**Chapter One**_

–

_The warm Caribbean sun began to slowly fade into the evening horizon, reflecting off of the serene waves that seemed to hum a gentle lullaby along the shoreline. The visiting ships were at bay as the impending night drew ever nearer. A little girl no more than ten, dressed in the overgrown clothes of her widower father, sat barefoot and anxious upon the opaline sands of the shore. Her skin was olive-colored and covered from head to toe in bruises and scrapes that would be common to a carpenter or blacksmith but rather uncommon to a little girl, the Governor's little girl at that. The locks of her waist length wavy, black hair fell every which way down her back, more coarse and untamed than a horse's mane. She was a tiny little thing, too skinny than she rightfully should be for a girl her age or a person in general. She had a fair amount of dirt upon her face, no doubt from sword fighting that afternoon with her new wooden sword, and roughhousing with the servants' children in the garden in spite of her maid's orders. She was far from a proper young lady, and she wouldn't have it any other way._

"_And then you gallantly rescued the distressing damsel and escaped on a couple dolphins, passing by," the little girl cooed with wide and eager eyes, finishing her companion's sentence, "strapped 'em to your feet using nothing but your own hair for reigns." She pulled her knees close up against her chest, pressing her chin atop her knees as she bit her lower lip with anxious anticipation._

"_You know me stories better than I do, luv," said her older male companion, smirking an amused grin and flashing his golden smile. "I fear you've heard 'em all too many times."_

_'Unique' could be the only word to describe the man beside her. He had long, raven dreadlocks that resembled a thick mop atop his skull. A grimy old bandana rested upon his odd mop of hair, acting as a thin linen between his nappy hair and his favored aging hat. His skin was as tan and weathered as the leather boots upon his feet. He lined the boarders of his dark eyes with coal and decorated his bizarre beard with trinkets the same as his hat. He was undeniably handsome at his favorable age of twenty._

"_Oh no, Jack," she pouted playfully, "I love your stories, tell another! Oh, please!"_

"_Come now, Annie Jane," he smirked, pinching her cheek. "I promised yer father I'd have you back by sunset. You know how upset he got last time I had ye out past yer curfew."_

"_I thought pirates weren't supposed to be scared of anything," she teased, "especially not little girls or their fathers."_

"_Most little girls do not have Lord Edward Jones as their father – and I'm not scared," he added hastily as if he'd missed her sardonic comment until just then. "I'm merely a strong proponent of not infuriating those in authoritative positions, savvy."_

"_But you're leaving for three whole months!" she exclaimed as Jack rose to his feet. "I won't get to see you or hear your stories."_

"_You've heard them all a thousand times already, darling," he chuckled, pulling the child up from the sand amid her protesting._

"_But I'll forget and–"_

"_How about this," Jack started, leaning over and resting his hands on his knees to look into her large sea green eyes. "How about you write all my adventures down in an er– a story book, so you don't forget 'em. By the time you've written 'em all down – making yours truly the dashing gentleman of fortune and honorable heroic hero of course – the Pearl will be making port, and I'll have even more tales for ye to scribble down."_

"_Fine," she muttered, scowling as she looked downwards. Jack smirked at his little friend and tilted her chin upwards with his thumb and index finger to meet her eyes. _

"_Oy," he said to attempt to collect her undivided attention. "You know I'll be back, I always come back to ye."_

"_Who will teach me how to sword fight and–"_

"_Me," he repeated, taking her hand and somewhat forcefully leading her back down the dirt path to the Governor's mansion to which she called him, "in three months."_

_The truth of the matter was that Jack Sparrow never set foot on land more than two months of the year. He joked on several occasions that he had developed a condition that he referred to as "Land Legs" rather than the more common unbalanced stature most land dwellers experience upon stepping foot onto a ship. However, those four different two week periods each year acted as a lifetime to the little girl of whom had idolized the pirate since her infancy. Though he'd never admit it in front of his comrades and crew, he adored the little girl despite his typically stoic demeanor and distaste for children. In all honesty, he probably wouldn't spend two months of the year on land if the land he spent his time on wasn't his birthplace and the birthplace of little Annie._

"_In three months I'll be practically grown-up!" she exclaimed as if the sky was falling from above._

"_You'll be ten years old, same as when I left ye," he smirked, still looking forward as the towering home neared._

"_Nuh uh!" she replied as if the man had insulted her on the deepest of levels. "I'll be eleven, that's old!"_

"_Eleven, eh?" he said, acting as if he'd forgotten. "That is ancient."_

"_Ancient, indeed," a burly voice interrupted. A tall man, beyond his prime, strode out from within the impressive manor. He wore a gray powdered wig upon his head, a handsome grin spread coyly across his aging face. He kept his hands held tightly behind his back as the mismatched pair approached the handmade wooden porch. "Hello Jack, I see you've managed to keep my daughter entertained for another afternoon."_

"_Annie provides most of the entertainment to be honest," said Jack, smirking as he flashed the little girl a humored wink. "She was showing me how much she's improved with her swordsmanship."_

"_I'm sure she was," said the Lord with a smile, beckoning his daughter to his side and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "She needs to spend a little less time with a sword in her hand a little more time replacing it with a quill."_

"_We covered that little dilemma," said Jack, grinning._

"_Good to hear," said the Governor, squeezing his daughter's shoulder affectionately. "Now, you should be off preparing for bed, sweetheart. Gully has drawn you a bath."_

_Gully, the aging Jamaican governess of little Lady Anne Jones, revealed herself in the doorway. She looked perturbed at the sight of the little girl under the care of Jack Sparrow once again. She'd always been fond of the man's mother, the housekeeper of the Jones household for many years before she was taken several years earlier by the fever. However, Jack had turned out exactly like his pirate father rather than his respectable hardworking mother. Gully never hid her distaste for the pirate captain either, turning her nose up whenever he was in her presence. She never approved of Lord Edward's acceptance of Jack Sparrow, not at all. Lord Edward's wife, Lady Catherine Swann had a close friendship with Jack's mother and wished her husband to always look after her dear friend and her son included. Lord Edward kept his word and actually took a liking to the boy turned man over the years, appreciating his care for his young also motherless daughter. Lord Edward, despite his political ties and responsibilities, always opened his kind heart and warm household to Jack Sparrow. Lord Edward merely ignored Jack's transgressions as long as they did not influence his impressionable young daughter or performed said illicit actions whilst Port Arthur was under his care._

"_But Father–" she argued._

"_Go on, luv," said Jack. "You don't want to start stinking as bad as 'ole Barbossa."_

_The child turned her nose up in disgust at the mere thought of developing a bodily stench as terrible as Jack's first mate. Jack playfully ruffled her hair before she projected herself forward and engulfed the man in a snug embrace. Jack released a curt laugh and lifted the little girl in his arms for a moment before placing her gentle back on the ground again._

"_Goodbye, Jack," she said quietly in his ear. "I'll miss you."_

"_And I'll miss you too, child," he grinned, setting her back down on the earth. "Behave but not too terribly well while I'm away."_

"_Aye, Aye Captain," she said, saluting the pirate lord and darting inside with Gully sending Jack one final intimidating glare before she chased after the little girl._

_Gully closed the door behind herself and young Lady Anne, spotting the child leap into her bubble filled bathtub with all her clothes still on before finally removing the now soaked articles and tossing them to the floor. Gully frowned and rolled her eyes. The dark-skinned governess snatched up a blush and sat comfortably behind the child to comb her unruly hair. Anne playfully splashed several bubbles, peeking her toes up from the mounds of bubbles. She winced after each of Gully's determined brushes of her coarse, black hair._

"_Gully, Jack told me the most awful story the other day," said the girl as she created a beard made of bubbles upon her rosy cheeks._

"_Did 'e now?" _

"_Oh, yes," she replied anxiously. "He told me that when he was a very little boy, he and his father – Captain Teague, were out at sea and came across a poor young boy drowning! Captain Teague jumped in and rescued him and you'll never guess who's son he was! You'll never guess, go on and try and guess!"_

"_I dunno, chile," Gully sighed, unamused. "Who was the boy's father?"_

"_The Admiral of the King's Navy himself!" Anne exclaimed. "And when Captain Teague returned the Admiral's son to him, the Admiral told Captain Teague that he would have rather had his son drown than have him owe his life to a pirate. Can you imagine it, Gully? How terrible for the poor boy to hear his own father say something so awful! Jack said it was heartbreaking!"_

"_Jack shouldn't be filling your head with dreadful tales like that, chile, or any tales at all in my opinion," said Gully astutely._

"_Why not?" she replied, turning her head to look up at her governess with curious eyes. "I love his stories."_

"_It's not just his stories that I don't like about him," she said. "It's more him in general."_

"_But Jack is my best friend in the whole wide world, Gully," she stated firmly. "Why–"_

"_He is a pirate, a no good pirate like his murderous father," said Gully, helping the little girl out of the bathtub and wrapping a warm towel around her._

"_You don't know Jack like I do–"_

"_I know his father," she interrupted, pausing her rough drying of the child, "I knew his father before he skipped town, abandoning his wife and young son to sail the Caribbean as a pillaging, plundering demon of the sea."_

"_Jack isn't like his father," said Anne surely. "He would never just leave and never come back. He would never leave me behind like his father did to him and his mum. He'll come back soon to me, you'll see, Gully, and someday, someday when I'm older – I'm going to marry him."_

_Gully froze as Anne held the towel tight around her small frame, prying herself from her aging governess to peer out over her balcony. Anne smiled down at the distant figure of Captain Jack Sparrow, beginning her silent countdown until his return. Gully looked on after Lady Anne with an uneasy expression. She didn't know what was more unsettling, the fact that the child she'd practically raised since infancy had confessed her desire to marry a pirate or the fact that she meant it._

–

Elizabeth Swann gently popped open a small makeshift hidden compartment in her vanity drawer, revealing a medallion. It was real gold and tediously handcrafted by Aztec hands, no doubt. It was a beautiful piece of jewelery, though eerie once given a closer look. She'd come across the unique item upon a young man, William Turner, the blacksmith's apprentice. He'd been found en route to Port Royal when the two were mere children, no older than twelve. Will had been drifting on a discarded piece of rubble from a massacred ship, left for dead if it had not been for the _HMS_ _Dauntless_ and the Queen's Royal Navy who rescued him from his inevitable demise. Elizabeth had made the quick decision to take the medallion from the boy's neck, hoping that by stealing the gold piece would prevent any suspicions of Will's allegiance with pirates. Elizabeth hung the medallion around her neck, thoughtlessly twirling it between her long and elegant fingers.

"You're waking up late this morning," said a familiar voice from her balcony, causing Elizabeth to jump and quickly hide the necklace between her breasts.

A loud _THUD_ followed the voice before her dark curtains were very ungracefully separated momentarily to reveal the intruder. A young woman, not much older than Elizabeth herself snuck in through the heavy fabric used to block the sun's rays. She wore a large, white billowing shirt that fell several inches below her knees, her long raven-colored locks falling freely from her once flawless bun, wearing a sleepy expression to mimic her disheveled appearance.

"As are you, Anne," said Elizabeth, smirking all-knowingly to the petite woman, "out with the Commodore again?"

"_Captain_, luv," said Anne, winking slyly to her female counterpart, "at least until this afternoon."

"Ah, of course," said Elizabeth with a hint of a grin. "What did you two do last night, that is to say – this morning? I wager something completely honorable."

"Unfortunately so," said Anne, striding to Elizabeth's closet to find a nightgown. "You know, James, he's the only man on Port Royal refusing to succumb to the temptation of deflowering his fiance before his wedding night. I slept in his bed, he slept on on the floor. It was all insufferably virtuous, as always."

"He just respects you too much, at least he's stopped refusing your unescorted company after dark," said Elizabeth with a slight smile, watching her cousin retrieve her old nightgown. "You know how much he cares for you and your honor included."

"I know," she sighed heavily (as if she hated herself for it), slipping on Elizabeth's nightgown to conceal her late night rendezvous with James Norrington and hiding James's blouse in the back of her cousin's closet. "But enough about my uneventful night, how did you spend your evening?"

"I read," said Elizabeth as if she was excited someone had raised the subject.

"And I thought my evening was dull," she teased, slumping down upon Elizabeth's ancient armchair, pulling one knee most improperly up against her chest to rest her chin upon her own kneecap.

"Oh, but it was far from dull," said Elizabeth giddily. "I was reading the newest edition of _The Adventures of Jack Sparrow _by A.J. Robins. It's all so exhilarating!"

"I can't believe you still read that rubbish," said Anne, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, "children's fables, nonsensical fairytales about a disgraceful drunkard."

"Far from it, Annie," Elizabeth mused. "The stories are dangerous and– and breathtaking and– bloody fantastic! I'm nearly finished, this edition is much shorter than the first two. I've just reached to the part where the stowaway on the _Black Pearl_ saves his own neck by using the pirate's code er... parlee and–"

"P-A-R-L-E-Y," said Anne before she could stop herself.

"Yes, that's it," said Elizabeth, nodding enthusiastically. "Have you read the book then?"

"No," she said nonchalantly, "it's merely common knowledge."

"Well, go on then," said Elizabeth.

"According to Code of the order of the brethren, set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew," she began easily, "if any detainee of a pirate crew invokes the right of parley then no harm may come upon them until they have been taken safely and securely before the Captain of said vessel."

"Right," she replied slowly, sending her cousin an odd look. "Where did you learn–"

A knock on the door interrupted Elizabeth's inquisition and Anne was thankful for the intrusion.

"Elizabeth?" called Weatherby Swann from the other end of the door. "Have you seen your cousin?"

"In here, Uncle," replied Anne, lowering her leg to much more ladylike manner.

The extravagant powdered wig-wearing governor entered his daughter's chambers followed by Elizabeth's two maids and her cousin's aging Jamaican governess and maid, Gully.

"I wondered where you'd gone off to, Anne," said the Governor, smiling kindly. "I should have known the two of you would be together, still thick as thieves just as you were as children."

"Oh, yes," Anne smiled innocently. "I must have fallen asleep chatting late again with Lizzy."

Anne caught a wise expression from Gully, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. Anne had never been able to pull anything over on her plump, old maid. She wasn't stupid, and she knew when her mistress was up to no good. Anne sent Gully a silencing glare, abandoning her pleasant grin to her uncle for only a moment to warn Gully to keep quiet about her fib. Her attention then shifted to a pair of boxes now resting on Elizabeth's vanity.

"What's this, Father?" asked Lizzy.

"Gifts," said Weatherby, clasping his hands together, "two new gowns, the latest fashion in London as I hear it."

Elizabeth's maids each pulled out a dress, one a bit longer for Elizabeth in a lovely golden shade that accented her honey blonde hair and brown eyes. Anne's gown was a pale green like her eyes, sea green. She'd never seen such a handsome dress in all her days. The servants led the girls behind the changing shades and helped them into their gowns. Gully made certain to imply an extra tug on Anne's corset as if to punish her subliminally for her late night disappearance again. Anne grunted and sent Gully a nasty look which left the aging Jamaican unfazed.

"How's it coming?" asked the Governor.

"It's a bit tight," Elizabeth groaned as her two maids nearly crushed her ribs. "What's the occasion?"

"I thought it would be nice for you both to have something new to wear to Captain Norrington's coronation ceremony," smiled Weatherby Swann, his cheeks glowing.

He couldn't have been happier with the news of his niece's engagement to such a prestigious member of the King's navy. James Norrington was responsible, respectable, hardworking, dedicated and kind which were all the particulars the Governor wanted in the men his daughter and niece would marry. However, Governor Swann was no less surprised than anyone else when Captain Norrington proposed to Anne. The pair could not have been more different, utter opposites in every way possible. Anne was a free spirit, never the slightest bit interested in society's obligations or proper manners. She liked to be outdoors, never one to hide inside or retain the pale skin that women of noble blood strove for. No, Anne liked running, sailing and most of all – sword fighting. There were many nights when the gentle thuds and metal slashing could be heard down the hall from Anne's room while she snuck in a late night practice in her chambers. Elizabeth was like his niece in many ways as well, but she was also much more inclined to at least fake societal norms in public while her cousin couldn't care less on many occasions.

"There will be several very eligible bachelors there for Lizzie, of course," Anne teased, smirking at Elizabeth from behind the shades. Her cousin most inelegantly stuck her tongue out, earning an identical response. Gully dug a pin sharply in Anne's skull to scold her for her unladylike action. She winced and glared at her old governess in reply.

"The thought did cross my mind," said the Governor lightly.

"I'm certain it did," said Elizabeth begrudgingly. "But I–"

A loud knock from downstairs interrupted Elizabeth's sentiment to her father just as Anne returned from behind the shade, fully dressed. After over twenty years of service to her mistress, Gully had gotten Anne's dressing down to a science. Anne was certain the old woman could tie a corset and bind a bun blindfolded.

"I'll be just a moment," said Elizabeth, grunting as her maid tightened her corset again.

"Come along then, Anne," said Governor Swann, extending his arm to his niece. He smiled at the petite, raven-haired girl and nodded kindly as she accepted his arm. "You look lovely, just like your mother."

"Thank you, Uncle," she replied, allowing him to lead her down the long staircase to the entrance hall just as the butler opened the front door to reveal Will Turner, holding a long and narrow box. "Hello there, Will," said Anne, smiling broadly, "long time no see."

"Lady Jones," he bowed. Elizabeth had always been rather annoyed at Will for refusing to address her by her first name, but Anne was never very bothered by his formality. Will did not behold the social stature that the Swann's attained, and though she did wish he referred to her as 'Anne' it was alright with her for Will to keep to the social code just as long as she wasn't expected to as well.

"Ah, Mister Turner," said the Governor, releasing his niece's arm to allow her to stand beside him before the blacksmith's apprentice. "You have brought Captain Norrington's sword, I see."

"Yes, sir," said Will, opening the thin box to reveal the handsome new weapon. Anne's eyes widened at its beauty, abruptly plucking the sword from its home before her uncle could examine the handiwork. Anne extended her arm gracefully and flipped the weapon in the air, dropping the handle to her heel only to kick it meaningfully back into her hand a second later. Will looked impressed and the Governor looked rather displeased.

"James will love it," she finally said in awe at the sword. "It's light but sturdy, fantastic handiwork, Will."

"You flatter me, milady," said Will, grinning. "Thank you, and I see you have not lost your talent with a sword."

"Never," she smiled as the sound of carriage wheels and horse huffs echoed in the background.

"It appears Captain Norrington has arrived for you, Annie dear," said the Governor.

"Early as always," she chuckled to herself.

Will tactfully slid the boxed sword behind him, to conserve some sort of surprise. The soon to be Commodore Norrington strode through the front door, confident and regal with his hands latched tightly behind his back. He was handsome, strikingly so. He was sought after by most women across the port, attracted to his solid stature and relentless propriety. His eyes were a cool green, cold to those who could not see through them. His expression was rigid, uninviting to the naked eye yet undoubtedly intimidating to those who opposed him. He wore a powdered wig since he was appointed to Captain, still forced to wear the hideous thing as Commodore as well. James Norrington never flinched, never batted an eye in fear or in surprise, but Anne could cause his strong and noble stature to shudder with the slightest of glance. James smiled and nodded his greetings to the Governor then William Turner.

"If I was on time, I would be late," he jested without a comical tone, no such tone existed in his deep and charming voice.

"Why James Norrington," Anne teased, placing her open palm to her chest in faux surprise. "What in heaven's name are you doing here? You appear as if you're preparing for some sort of grand event, dressed in your best uniform and all. Wait a moment, wasn't there some sort of something this afternoon? Hm. No, I must mistaken."

"My niece's sense of humor appears to have not faltered even on such an important day," said the Governor, sending James an almost apologetic grin. James was unfazed, however, and merely unlatched his tightly clenched hands from behind his back to offer his elbow to the Governor's niece.

"I would be worried if it did," he replied, smiling slightly down at his young fiance. "With your permission, Governor, I will escort Lady Anne to the ceremony."

"Of course," he replied, "Elizabeth and I will follow soon after."

"Wonderful," said James. "Good day, Mister Turner."

Anne placed her small palm upon the nook of his elbow, swishing her skirts from side to side as she followed beside the distinguished sailor. The pair continued to look at one another from the corner of their eyes, both fighting sly grins until they reached the carriage.

"You look beautiful, Anne," said James, offering his hand to help his fiance into the carriage.

"You don't look too bad yourself, _Commodore_," she smirked, climbing into the carriage before him, "besides the blasted wig of course. You know how I hate that hideous thing. It looks like a dead animal on your head."

"You are too kind," he snorted a sarcastic laugh as he closed the door after sitting down beside Anne, "but I have grown rather fond of the wig. I think it makes me look distinguished." James adjusted his powdered wig for good measure, puffing out his chest.

"It makes you look ancient," she replied as the carriage took off for the fort. "Half of the time I feel as if I'm kissing my grandfather."

"I hope you don't kiss your grandfather the way you kiss me," he said dryly, smiling humorously.

"Shall we change the subject to something a bit more appeasing?" Anne suggested with a curt laugh. "I feel as if we could come across a much more engaging conversation opposed to examining a nonexistent sexual relationship with my deceased grandfather."

"If you insist," James sighed as he was sad to see the topic die. "But what could possibly be a more appeasing conversation?"

"We could address the subject of your promotion," said Anne, "and how truly proud and happy I am for you. Truly I am, sweetheart, I know how long and how hard you've worked for this day."

"I'm happy for _us_," he replied meaningfully. "This promotion means much more than just a higher rank. This stabilizes my career and my finances. All I need now is a fine wife, and I'll have everything I've ever wanted."

"Well, I'll keep a look out for a worthy woman for you," she joked. "I am a very skilled matchmaker, you know–"

Suddenly, Anne felt James's rough and callused palm cover her own tiny hand upon her lap. He squeezed it gently and smiled affectionately down at her. He slowly pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it sweetly before returning it to her lap. He needed no words, his small action was worth more than a million thoughtful syllables. Once her hand was released, Anne positioned herself sideways to be able to place her palm upon James's freshly shaved cheek. He looked at her with an unsure expression at first, his lips parted. Anne pushed herself up off her seat to softly press her lips against his. He slid his hand upon her waist, pulling her closer against him. Anne slipped her free hand between two of his blouse buttons, feeling his bare chiseled chest beneath. The carriage came to an abrupt halt and the pair separated just as suddenly. The driver opened the carriage door as James cleared his throat and adjusted his jacket. A self-satisfied smile graced Anne's face as she watched a slight blush grow upon James's face.

James helped Anne from the carriage, appearing much more rigid and noble than before. He looked proud and graceful with his fiance on his arm, escorting Anne to her front place in line to watch the ceremony. He imagined many onlookers were envious of the pair, jealous of their accomplishments, elegance and propriety. He could hardly blame them, he'd been jealous of those outranking him for years. James kissed Anne's and bowed before departing to prepare for his entrance not long before Elizabeth and the Governor arrived. Elizabeth was fiercely fanning herself, struggling to breathe normally.

"Are quite alright, Lizzie?" asked Anne thoughtfully

"I'm alright, but this damned corset is suffocating me," she replied, adjusting her skirt. "How is James, nervous about the ceremony?"

"He seems fine," she replied, still eyeing her cousin with concerned eyes, "but you know how well he hides his emotions."

"Well, according to Father, he has one fewer reason to be nervous," said Elizabeth, fanning herself fervently. "Cutler Beckett will be unable to oversee the ceremony, you know how influential he has become over the Navy since his appointment as Chairman. The East India Trading Company is growing more and more powerful by each passing day with Beckett at the helm."

"Cutler Beckett?" Anne snorted most improperly. "That pompous little pipsqueak has no business at Port Royal or anywhere else across the Caribbean."

"I never knew you disliked Beckett," she replied, looking sideways at her shorter companion.

"Yes, well there is just something about slave traders that leaves a sour taste in my mouth," said Anne crossly.

"Slaves?" said Elizabeth, suddenly much more interested as a distant bugle sounded to signal the ceremony's beginning. "You must be mistaken. The East India Trading Company trades goods, not people."

"Now," she corrected her cousin, barely moving her lips to reply as the fort's back doors opened to reveal James Norrington. "How do you think your favorite drunkard, Captain Jack Sparrow, was branded a pirate?"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Elizabeth.

"Jack Sparrow was once an employee of the Company," she said, soft enough for Elizabeth's ears only. "During one transport of cargo for Cutler Beckett himself, 'ole Jack Sparrow discovered that "certain cargo" were in fact slaves. Jack set them free in their native land and Beckett punished him by sinking his ship and branding him with a 'P' on his forearm. Most wouldn't see such an act of compassion to be classified as piracy, but Beckett figured otherwise."

Elizabeth turned her head to look upon her cousin. Anne wore a blank expression though her eyes told a different story, there was hatred there behind her irises. The hidden fury did not fade until James Norrington strode handsomely between the lines of people, peeking at his fiance from the corner of his eye as he passed by. Elizabeth didn't understand her dear cousin. For years, Anne denied any interest at all in the tales of pirates or the topic of piracy. She was indifferent towards the subject if anything, yet Elizabeth had recently began to notice her vast knowledge of piracy and more specifically Captain Jack Sparrow despite Anne's reluctance to engage herself in pirate conversation previously.

"How did you know that?" asked Elizabeth.

"Common knowledge," said Anne as if Elizabeth was ignorant for even asking her such a ridiculous question, her eyes following James as he extended his arm upward, new sword in hand. Elizabeth eyed her cousin for another long second before returning her gaze upon James as well.

–

There ceremony was lovely, carried on without a single glitch, though the length was admittedly a bit too long for most in attendance. James Norrington had never looked so right in the world. At that very moment, he attained a perfect existence, and he wanted to enjoy such a euphoric feeling for as long as he could. After receiving dozens of congratulatory greetings, James sought out Anne (chatting with Elizabeth, along with Lieutenants Theodore Groves and Simon Gillette beside him. The three men bowed respectfully to the two women, who nodded their heads and curtsied slightly in reply.

"Ladies," said James, smiling gently.

"Gentlemen," said Anne and Elizabeth in unison.

"Did you find the ceremony enjoyable?" asked Groves.

"Certainly," Elizabeth breathed with great difficulty, "but the sun seems to be attempting to spoil my enjoyment. If you'll excuse me for just a moment, I think I may try to catch a fresh breeze off the sea to cool myself."

"Would you like me to join you?" asked Anne with genuine concern.

"No, I can manage alone, thank you all the same," replied Elizabeth, bowing her head to pardon herself from the other four. "I'll return soon enough." She then lifted her skirts and walked as quickly as she could to the Fort's edge overlooking the sea to try to intercept the wind's path.

"So tell me, gentlemen, with all in attendance to see James's promotion, who is guarding the naval fleet?" asked Anne with a flirtatious grin.

"Murtogg and Mullroy are on duty at the docks," said Gillette.

"Ah, and may I ask why you do not care about the safety and protection of your naval ships?" asked Anne, biting back a laugh. Gillette and Groves laughed much harder than James and her half-joke.

"They'll manage," said Groves with a smile. "Even those two dolts should be able to safeguard two uninhabited ships for a few hours without any major screw ups."

"Weren't they the fools who accidentally set the _HMS Intrepid_ aflame last summer?" replied Anne.

"Maybe you two should go and find a couple willing men to relieve them from their posts for now," James suggested, swallowing uneasily at the thought of watching another one of his ships being stolen from his charge thanks to an accidental fire caused by two of his most incapable men.

"Of course, Commodore," said the men in unison, gnawing on identical laughs at their commander's discomfort. They saluted James and departed to find a few lower ranking (yet far more able minded) men to take Murtogg and Mullroy's places at the dock. Anne smiled an amused grin after them before turning back to James. She winked up at him seductively, pulling playfully at the lower lining of his royal blue jacket to tug him slightly closer. James kept his hands latched properly behind his back though did not object to her hands upon his clothing.

"I love to watch you give orders, _Commodore_," she whispered, rubbing the rough fabric of his jacket between her thumb and index fingers. "You're so impressive."

"How you do love to mock me," he grinned, leaning in a bit closer.

"A favorite pastime of mine, I must admit," she laughed, releasing his uniform only to straighten it with her palms affectionately. "Now what was it that you wished to ask me earlier before we were so rudely interrupted?"

"Ah, of course," he said, offering Anne his arm to escort her to a less occupied location in the shade. Once the found their desired location, James took Anne's hands in his, looking deep into her eyes.

"You remember that you have already proposed to me once already, darling," said Anne condescendingly. "I think twice could be deemed a bit excessive, don't you agree?"

"What do you think of the second of August?" he inquired, ignoring her sarcasm.

"I think it typically follows the first of August," said Anne, "unless you're referring to Singapore, then it follows the fourth–"

"Anne," James scolded, bringing her ramblings back to a somewhat civilized conversation again.

"Yes, August the second sounds like..." she replied. "I don't know, James, what does it sound like to you?"

"I was thinking it sounded like the perfect day for a wedding," he said with a coy little smile.

"Why James Norrington, if I didn't know any better I'd think you just set the date of our wedding to three months from today," Anne grinned.

"I think it is safe to deduct through your immense sarcasm that you approve of such a suggestion?"

"Well, I will have to check with my extremely tentative schedule and get back to you of course," she teased. "Becoming your wife is just not exactly atop my list of priorities. I mean, you know how busy I am with my relentless monotony."

"I see," he smirked. "Well, if you can squeeze me into your ever so busy schedule then I would love to attempt to make you my wife."

"I think I can move a few prior engagements around to marry you," she teased. "We'll see, darling."

James chuckled and leaned in slowly to kiss his young bride-to-be. Anne placed a gentle hand on his cheek, standing on the tips of her toes to reach his lips. Just before their mouths joined as one, a desperate cry interrupted them.

"ELIZABETH!"

It was the Governor, leaning frantically over the edge of the Fort. He was hastily pulling off his jacket and hat until a few naval men grasped his arms, holding him back from jumping into the sea. James released Anne and quickly resumed his duties by darting to the dramatic scene unfolding before him, Anne running close behind despite her heavy skirts and binding corset. It didn't take someone with basic intelligence to realize what had happened. Elizabeth had fallen into the ocean below, probably fainting from the heat. Anne's hear was pounding, a dozen terrible outcomes came flooding through her mind. Elizabeth wasn't just her cousin, she was her best friend, the one constant figure in her life since her father's death. Anne grasped her abdomen with one hand, her other shaky palm covered her open mouth.

Then everything began happening extremely fast. Everyone began screaming and running in several different directions. Anne spotted James and took off after him, trying desperately to keep up. Just moments ago, Anne was perfectly content. She was enjoying the shade with her fiance, smelling the sea air and celebrating an important day dedicated to the man she loved. Yet, in a matter of seconds, Anne was faced with the loss of her dearest friend. Her corset dug deeper into her abdomen as she sprinted after the naval men who were now far ahead of her, looking like ants in the distance.

When she reached the now motionless group of men, she saw Elizabeth standing between them, looking entirely unharmed. Anne struggled to catch her breath as she fought her way closer to Elizabeth, feeling relieved and furious with Elizabeth for being so careless. When Anne finally reached the front of the crowd of naval men, her breath had been caught – stuck in her throat. At closer glance, Anne now saw that Elizabeth was unharmed but far from safe from danger. She saw that some man was using Elizabeth as some sort of makeshift shield, choking her with his shackles. James was handing some items into Elizabeth's hands that undoubtedly belonged to her captor.

Elizabeth clasped Jack Sparrow's – a pirate's – affects in her hands, turning about to assist the return of his items onto his body. He was taking entirely to much pleasure in her discomfort.

"Elizabeth, is it?" the dreadlocks-sporting man whispered.

"Miss Swann," she snapped severely, ordering formalities from her rescuer and now captor.

"Miss S–" he stopped before finishing her surname, his pompous expression changing to a look of shock and disbelief. "Miss who?"

"_Swann_, you despicable excuse for a man," she sneered as she harshly set his hat upon his head. Jack remembered that name, as if he could ever forget it. That surname belonged to the Lady Catherine of Port Arthur which meant that there was a good chance this young woman was related to his late mother's best friend. This fact also led to the possibility that this Elizabeth Swann would bare the same blood as the Lady Catherine's daughter.

Jack wasn't paying any attention to Elizabeth any longer, and she noticed this fact. His eyes drifted over her shoulder just as a petite, raven-haired young woman inched her way in front of the onlookers. Her eyes were sea green, eerily familiar. Her face was desirable, eyes the size of dinner plates, appearing to be constantly yearning for more answers to unasked questions. He knew those eyes, that woman, though he knew her as a child then.

"Annie Jane," Jack whispered so quietly that Elizabeth barely heard his words. She jerked her head back to see her cousin standing before them, a look of sheer surprise across her beautiful face. Though the syllable was not audible, Elizabeth could not mistake her cousin's mouth wording the name – _Jack_.

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_**A/N:**__ This is my first Pirates fiction, so please be gentle with me. Lady Anne (in my mind) would be played by Katie McGrath. She looks like Kiera Knightley and resembled my description of Annie. Let me know what you like so far, excuse typos and let me know what you'd like to see happen=)_

_**Coming Soon: **__Anne speaks to Jack after a decade apart, Elizabeth investigates her cousin's relationship with Jack Sparrow, chaos ensues when the Black Pearl drops anchor at Port Royal, Jack sees Anne in a new light and hilarity undoubtedly ensues..._

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_**Review.**_


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